


The Faerie Tale Job

by valarltd



Category: Leverage
Genre: AU, Gen, Seelie Court, Sidhe, Unseelie Court
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valarltd/pseuds/valarltd
Summary: The Leverage team is hired to take on a greedy developer who is kidnapping people and leaving changelings in their places. Faerie Court AU





	The Faerie Tale Job

The woods stifled him. He consulted the compass, map and directions again, almost feeling the trees leaning over his shoulder to read the instructions. Or perhaps to erase them and rewrite them when he wasn’t looking.

“That was the lightening-blasted oak,” he muttered, “and I went fifty ells due south.” He looked at his feet and made very certain not to trample any of the bright red toadstools around them. “Now twenty-seven rods west-southwest.” He was glad he’d sat down and made the conversion to feet and then to his paces. Not one of the rotten distances was in anything normal. 

Of course they wouldn’t be. What should he expect from a mysterious, hand-written, almost calligraphed note found on his bedside table that had said only “We can help. Come here at the first day of the full moon.”

He paced off the 445.5 feet and checked again. “Turn thrice widdershins, with your eyes shut.” He sighed. “Ridiculous.” He shut his eyes and turned to his left in a complete circle three times.

When he opened his eyes, there was a turnstile in front of him. An ancient, rusty turnstile, its industrial green paint flaking, its counter showing shapes he had no name for, which didn’t look anything like numbers, except for when he looked out the side of his eye at them.

He had been desperate when the message had appeared in an envelope on his bedside. He was just as desperate now. But trucking with the Good Neighbors was something he’d never even considered. Or actually believed in until last week. Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure he believed it.

He shrugged and went through the turnstile.

The girl was hanging by her knees from a tree limb, her blond ponytail dangling almost in his face. “We’ll be with you shortly. Have a seat on the stump please.” She swung up into the foliage and he lost track of the upside-down receptionist.

Best to follow instructions. He sat on the stump, which was just the right height and smooth topped. Not uncomfortable at all. He sighed and closed his eyes against a shaft of sunlight which had just fallen in them. When he opened them, he was sitting in an office.

An ordinary looking man sat across the ordinary looking desk from him. The receptionist was still upside down, but this time without a tree limb for support, just a huge pair of translucent black wings. A pair of dangerous looking men, one more physical and the other exuding brilliance, loomed on either side of the boss. A pretty lady with long hair drifted in with a tea tray and sat in the empty chair.

“Good afternoon,” he began. “I hope I’m in the right place.”

The brilliant man’s eyebrows went up. The receptionist grinned. The woman poured three cups of tea and the man at the desk’s expression never changed. He suspected he’d screwed up.

“We know who you are and why you’re here. You wouldn’t have gotten the invitation if we didn’t think your cause was worthy,” the woman said, picking up her own teacup.

Was he imagining it or was there a faint radiance, like a crown of gems, or stars, on the man behind the desk?

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said. “I do hope you can help.”

“We don’t offer if we can’t.” The physical man’s gravelly voice made him shiver. He didn’t know how many types of Fae there were, and he couldn’t afford to irritate any of them.

“It takes a very special human to catch our attention,” the woman said. “But we think we know who has your daughter. We’ll see if we can’t lead her home safely.”

He tried not to break down in tears. “Carrie,” he whispered. After a deep breath to steady his nerves, he opened his mouth again, but a sharp gesture from the man behind the desk cut him off.

“Don’t insult us. You’re about to. We do what we do for our own reasons. Your daughter is a side benefit and we expect to profit handsomely from the task itself, not from you.”

“Thank you.” He’d been prepared to do anything, pay anything and promise anything. He reached for his teacup before he thought the better of it. “Thank you,” he said again. He rubbed away the last trace of tears. 

He was sitting on the stump again. On one of the mushrooms nearby was a tiny teacup.

He followed the directions back home as fast as he could pace them out.

***

The scrying stone took up most of one wall. Hardison started the tale of the young lady when he created her picture. “Carrie Anne Whitman, age twenty. Her father was approached about selling a large piece of property at fire sale prices. He refused. She disappeared two years ago, but a substitute was left. The human family thought she was going through a severe illness, and took care of the bed-ridden changeling for a year until it died. Her mother died within a month of the changeling’s death. Carrie was lately spotted by a friend of her father’s, looking blank and confused, being forced into a car by this man.” The picture changed to a middle aged man. “Aaron Markham is human, runs a construction and surveying business, but trades with the Unseelie. He’s made a lot of money moving office building sites from our territory onto land he owns. It’s not the first time he’s used the changeling ploy to gain an edge over a business rival.”

Four more people came up. “All of them had land or businesses that Markham was planning to acquire. All of them had a favorite child take sick and die within a year of Markham approaching them. All of them sold.”

“So he still has five people locked in his basement? That’s terrifying,” Sophie said.

“Five people that everyone thinks are dead,” Eliot put in. “The possibilities are endless.”

“Are they all the same blood type?” Parker still hadn’t turned right side up. She seemed to prefer the current hovering position. “Is he a vampire? Or just collecting potential organ donors?”

“That’s nasty,” Hardison gave her a cross look.

“No, she may be onto something there,” Nate put in.

Hardison made a few passes and added a chart to the display. “Not quite. But all five of them are either AB+ or O-. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“Universal recipient and universal donor.” Eliot scowled. “I quit believing in coincidence before Sumer fell.”

“I thought you destroyed it,” Parker said.

Eliot just looked at her. She blinked back.

Hardison sighed. “If I could?” He continued. “So right now, Markham is working Whitman to get his property. Whitman knows his daughter isn’t dead, but he’s afraid to let Markham know, because then it will turn into an even uglier hostage situation.”

“So, we get her out and get the others home.” Nate grinned. “And we clear the name of the Gentry.”

***

Parker walked into the office of Markham Development. She didn’t like walking at all. But her wings were safely tucked away in otherspace and she couldn’t have them until she was back under hill. She tried not to sulk. It was unbecoming in an office drone.

She approached the desk in the lobby. Hardison had done something, magic and crystals and made the humans’ computers work for him. “Ailis Gentry, I’m here on the exchange thing?” She took a good look at the girl. Completely human, not even Second Sight. Good, she should be able to get in.

The girl typed and hunted a bit. “There we go. Here’s your badge and keycard and your office is on thirty-five. Enjoy your time with Markham.”

Parker clipped the badge to her blazer and pocketed the keycard. She headed to the elevators. As she passed through what she thought was a metal detector, the alarm went off. Security guards, who didn’t look at all bored and sleepy as she thought humans should look, started for her.

Without a second thought, she turned and ran. Her wings might be underhill but she could still run fast enough that it looked as if she was flying low. She wished she could shift into her raven form, but that was even more out of the question. She hit the door about the time the guards reached the place she had been. She heard “Parker’s coming out hot!” in her head from Nate, but ignored it. They would help or not, but she had to get out on her own.

Unfortunately, someone in the lobby had some presence of mind. A steel cable net came down on her, burning and trapping her. She pulled her blazer over her head for protection from the iron-based mesh. Security bound her with plastic covered steel cables and a tube full of salt was fastened around her chest and arms. Clearly the firm was used to dealing with the supernatural. 

***

“Not good.” Hardison paced the briefing room. “Not good.”

“We know that. Will you say something else?” Eliot growled as he looked up from schematics of the building. The place was a huge anti-magic sink, built specifically with Fae magic in mind, but effective enough against most human casters too. Hardison looked over his shoulder. 

“Is that-”

“Perimeter of rock salt around the building. Only way in or out for folks like us is the front door.”

“Or straight down,” put in Sophie.

“We can’t all fly,” Eliot reminded her.

“No magic, but we still have thousands of years of tricks and low cleverness,” Nate said, as if that settled it. “The day we can’t outsmart humans with half our brains tied behind us is the day we need to hang up the wings and go live with them.”

“I suppose you have a plan, then.” Sophie looked up from tracing the lines of magical dissipation and the grounding conduits worked into the building’s schematics.

“We’re already on to plan D.” He sat down. “With a man like Markham it’s all about finding his weak spots. And his is a common one, greed. But he’s smart and well-connected. I’ve been asking around. He’s not all human. There’s a great-great grandmother who was Sidhe. That’s how he has connections here. His great-great grandmother isn’t a major player, but right now she has the Autumn Queen’s favor and so her boy gets what he wants.”

“Oh, we are not going in against the Autumn Court,” Hardison moaned. “Not over a single human.”

“We shouldn’t have to. At least not all of it.”

Eliot growled a little. He looked at Sophie. “How much can you carry when you fly?”

“Not another person. Certainly not you. You’re all...” She tried to be diplomatic about his muscular frame. Finally she settled on, “You’re all solid.”

Hardison was juggling another stone, turning it this way and that trying to get a good view of something. “The only way in the front door and there’s a nasty detector just past the front desk. So what building is directly across from the front door? Leave a nice gap in your armor and some elfshot will find its way in.”

“I can’t imagine they’d leave the whole front unprotected. Check for wards that leave the door open.” Sophie traced the outline of the door on the front of the building. “Yes, see there. Magic-sinks, fae detectors and yet more iron.”

Hardison sighed. “Girl, I am down to riding up on the window-washer's platform.”

“Not a terrible idea. Except for the wards.” Eliot looked up. “And decorative iron grille-work. And the unbreakable glass. This place is a fortress. It’s going to have to be a diversion, with someone getting into the stairwell before they catch on.”

“Once we’re in, we have to locate Parker and the others. There are sure to be wards and alarms and magic sinks, as well as a basic human security system.” Nate watched them as he pared at his nails, seemingly unconcerned. “Anyone have an idea where to start looking for the people?”

“Itinerant Human Resources on 32 sounds like a start. Transient servers on 20. Temporary storage on sub-basement,” Eliot reeled off. “Of course, there’s always Nate’s way.”

“I am not going to devour my way through the minds of all the humans we come across. It gives me indigestion.” He looked up and smiled. “We’ll save that for the important people.”

***

Eliot and Hardison did their best to look as inconspicuous as two men pushing a six foot tall cake could. Nate was ahead of them, chatting up the receptionist. It was noon and the lobby was crowded with people. 

“Oh, and here it is!” Nate turned and gestured to the cake. “In celebration of Markham Corp’s tenth anniversary, a special delivery.” The sparklers activated. Sophie popped out of the top, wearing something skimpy and an extra glamour so that none of them would be able to say exactly what she looked like afterward.

Eliot and Hardison began serving cake off the cart to anyone at hand, keeping themselves dim, unremarkable. as Sophie sang a lengthy bit of congratulatory doggerel for the company anniversary. As soon as they could, they handed cake servers off to likely employees and edged toward the stairwell. 

Sophie finished the song and climbed out of the cake. She “accidentally” stepped into the fae detector, which looked like an ordinary metal detector.

Security and countermeasures were delayed by the milling, cake-eating employees, which gave Nate a moment to slip past the detector and join the men in the stairwell.

“I don’t have anything metal on!” Sophie protested. “How could I buzz the buzzer?” She stalled, playing up the empty-headed chanteuse role, slowing the guards. She protested and flirted and exuded pheromones. The security guards tried to question her but it went half a dozen directions before they knew it.

“Miss, we’re afraid it’s just a misunderstanding. But you will have to leave.” The head of security took her elbow. She smiled as she walked past three secretaries caught in the steel net, still eating their cake. 

“Oh of course. I have another gig.” She glanced at the clock in the lobby. “And I’m about to be late. Do have some cake. I’m so sorry about buzzing your buzzer.” She ran one fingernail over the knot in his tie and stepped away before he could respond. She walked off down the sidewalk, but from the corner of her eye she saw him turn and walk into the wall instead of the door.

Once out of sight of the door, she began making the arrangements for the getaway.

***

The men split up. They could still hear Nate in their heads as they searched for the floors where Parker and Markham’s hostages might be. 

Hardison started on twenty. He made himself inconspicuous as he searched the halls, finding nothing but rooms of computer servers. Tempted, he stepped into one of the rooms and interfaced his own data crystals with the human machinery. 

The results made him sit up and take notice. “Guys, I don’t have the people. But I do have Markham’s acquisition plan and list of targets for the next decade. And you’re not going to believe what he’s been working on.”

“Dammit Hardison, don’t hint.” Eliot ducked back into a the washroom alcove as a couple of women passed him by. 

“Convergence point. All his buildings are specifically designed and at strategic locations to maximize the crossover. He’s trying to draw Tir-na-NÓg into alignment with the mortal realm.” Hardison kept digging. “Oh this just gets better. There’s a plan to conquer it by use of iron and harness the magic to increase his power.”

“Have you found her yet or are you too busy playing with the shiny toys?” Eliot asked.

“Boys,” Nate warned. He stepped out of his shadows and accosted a man whose suit and name badge declared him John Green, senior vice president. “Good afternoon. I’m Aubrey Aiken from development and planning. I have a few questions for you about the Whitman project.”

Mr Green looked down at the man beside him, and made the good, professional eye-contact that had gotten him so far. 

Nathan of the Ford, Amadan of his people, did what he did best. Mr. Green’s mind was a delicious and tasty meal, as he devoured the memories and knowledge in it. As Mr. Green crumpled, he liberated the name badge as well before easing the still-breathing but no-longer-sensible Mr. Green into a storage closet.

“All, right, listen fast because the clock is running. Parker is on thirty-two as are the others. I have acquired just enough clearance to get them out. Hardison, get all the information you can on Markham’s plans. Eliot, can you gate in the hounds?”

“Not in this place. Too much of a magical sink. They’ll die of it. And I don’t feel so good myself.”

“Drat.” Nate swiped his way into the elevator. “We need to do this right: payback, and a lot of money.”

“I want Markham myself.” The force of nature that normally looked like a man and called itself Eliot in this time and place, was dangerously close to the surface and Nate could hear it. He’d had a reason for taking the name Spencer, the one who gives out and dispenses. Once the household supervisor, it also carried the connotation of meting out justice. And the justice of the Son of Nudd was swift and rough at best.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Nate started, when he arrived on the prison level. He opened the door and looked. 

There were a lot more than six people here. 

***

Eliot closed his eyes and concentrated. He could find Markham. That would put an end to all of this. If he had the Cwn Annwn it would be easier. But his hunting pack could not survive this place. Nate was absolutely right about the clock running. It wasn’t the security software detection clock. It was their life clocks. This building would kill them, given enough time. They had to get done and get out.

His eyes flew open and he strode for the elevator. He knew where to go and exactly what needed doing.

***

Hardison transferred everything he could find to his storage. He’d print it all and let Whitman make the stink with the human authorities. It looked like Nate would have to do some fast talking with a few powerful people as well. This was a mess, but he excelled at messes, both making them and cleaning them up, and profiting either way.

***

Parker was more than pleased to see Nate. She quit talking to the girl and come over to where he stood in the doorway, preventing it from locking shut behind him. “I have our human.”

Nate looked around. “And lots of others.” His eye landed on a familiar face. “And I heard you’d been banished back to Tir-na-NÓg. Sterling.”

The little man looked at Nate with no fondness at all in his face. “Get me out of here. The iron is killing us all, slowly. The spells in here help, a bit, but I expect even you are feeling it.”

“That’s the problem, you see.”

Sterling gave a nasty laugh. “Tell me you and your merry band of misfits didn’t plunge in here, feet-first without an extraction plan.”

Nate turned toward the door and gestured. “Parker, Miss Whitman, we’re going.”

“You can’t leave the rest of us here to rot. Do you know what Markham is planning? Do you see the whole plan yet?”

“He’s not just in real estate, he’s in medical,” Parker said.

“And trying to corner the market on certain blood types and donors.” Hardison’s mental communication wasn’t his strongest skill but he thought Nate should know.

“Are we sure he’s not a vampire?” Parker asked.

“They’re less obvious. Sophie, are you getting this?”

“Loud and clear. Your exit awaits on the roof.”

“Extraction point for how many?” Nate asked.

“I have passenger seating for nine. I’m driving.”

Nate and Parker exchanged worried yet knowing glances at that bit of news. “Could be a problem. I have a lot of passengers.”

“I’m not done.” Parker smiled as Eliot’s growl came through even in the mind-speech. “Markham is done with everything.”

“No. You’re not going to kill him.” Nate was firm on the point. The fact there was no reply worried him. A lot.

“The great hunter running with his pack again?” sneered Sterling. “You really need a better quality of friends. Some people just can’t resist the lure of the hunt.”

Nate shot him a venomous glare. “Some people know better then to insult other people, especially people who are rescuing them. I’m only contracted to rescue Miss Whitman.”

“You never limited yourself to the letter of a contract before.”

“First time for everything.” Nate was thinking hard. There had to be a way to get everyone, yes, even Sterling, out before the iron of the building killed them or Markham drained them in an attempt to corner the blood market. Nate wasn’t sure why there were so many Fae among the prisoners. That was for after they got out.

He was willing to bet that alarms would go off the minute any of them set foot outside the room. He hoped the cake worked as advertised and that most of the security force had enjoyed some of it.

“Eliot?” he tried again on the hunter. Still no answer. He couldn’t find Eliot’s mind at all and that worried him. “Parker, see if you can find Eliot.”

“I can try but if I do, I won’t be in my body to walk.”

“We’ll carry you. Find him and keep him from killing Markham.” As Parker lay down and began the out-of-body search for Eliot, Nate began organizing the prisoners for their exit. It was going to be ugly and awkward, and he was hoping no one got hurt. 

“All right, we’re going right out the front door. If everything works properly, which it won’t, it shouldn’t be hard. Out this door, to the elevator and down. Out the door in a mass. Skip the detectors, jump the desks, ride piggyback on the security guards, whatever you think will cause the most distraction. There’s a chance you may not make it. Odds are most of you will.”

“I kind of hate this plan,” Hardison said. “Take care of our girl.”

“You get to the roof,” Sophie instructed. 

“Couple things left to do here, then I’m gone.”

“What are you doing?” Nate asked.

Hardison gave a small mental chuckle and was gone. Nate wanted to swear. It was just him and Sophie now. He hoped Parker could find Eliot before he did something lethal. 

Everyone was on their feet and crowded to the door. Sterling had hoisted Parker into a fireman’s carry and waited with the others. Nate looked them over. “Carrie Whitman, you need to come with me. The rest of you, out through the lobby. Help each other, especially you who’ve been here too long.”

A couple of humans were supporting a very pale nixie who could barely walk. Nate motioned them over. “You go first. Then you,” he indicate several more of the less mobile prisoners. They made a slow way down the hall. No alarms. Once they were in the elevator, he nodded to the rest of the prisoners.

“All right, don’t let the door close behind me.” He stepped out of the way and the prisoners swarmed out toward the elevators. “Mind the weight limits!” he called. “Don’t break the elevators.”

Sterling lingered, the last out. “Might there be room on your transportation for me? By my count, there are only six of you.”

Carrie just looked puzzled. “How long have I been here? Did Daddy send you?”

“Your father sent us. And you’ve been here two years.” Nate was careful not to make eye contact with her.

“I didn’t think it was more than a few days. I remember going somewhere in a car a while back.”

“Yeah, we’re finding out more about that.” The second round of elevators came and took the last of the former prisoners. Nate gestured for Sterling and Carrie. “Our transport awaits.”

They had just pushed the up button when the alarm went off.

***

Eliot hated the sensation of being ridden. “Parker, get out of my head.”

“Where are we going?” She peeked out of his eyes. “I don’t recognize this.”

“Aaron Markham is a menace to both worlds. I mean to fix that.”

“Nate said not to kill him, silly.”

“Not silly. Not Seelie either.”

“I know where the word comes from.” Parker experimented with moving his hand. Eliot involuntarily scratched his nose. “This is lots more fun than riding a deer or fox. I wonder...”

“You can stop wondering until we get home,” Eliot said. “Let me do my damn job.”

“I’m supposed to keep an eye on you.”

Eliot shut up. He wasn’t going to kill Markham, not exactly. But if that was a side effect, he wouldn’t shed too many tears. Or any at all. There was just a lesson that needed delivering and he felt very instructive today.

Parker stayed quiet. He liked that about her. She knew when to be quiet. They heard the alarms going off below. She giggled. It felt like champagne bubbles in his brain.

“Hardison set off the alarms. There are intruders in the sub basement, a bomb threat on the third floor and a drunk and disorderly in the cafeteria.”

“Everywhere our people aren’t.”

“And Sophie’s cake worked. Half the security guards are asleep and the other half have forgotten how stairs and elevators work.” She giggled again. “There’s a big pile-up at the foot of the stairs and they’re pressing everything but the elevator buttons. Including each other’s name badges and noses.”

“I’d have made them forget how to walk. That’s always good for slowing them down. How long does it last?”

“Until the cake is digested,” Sophie said. Eliot felt her homing signal hit him between the eyes. “There you are. Get to the roof.”

Eliot turned the corner to encounter three men, who stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him.

“Jenkins, why is there an elf in my building?” one demanded. 

Jenkins reached for a side-arm. “Won’t be for long.”

Eliot stepped in and disarmed him, knocked the other human cold and put a hard come-along on Aaron Markham. He had the look of a man who had done no fighting whatsoever in his life, at least none that didn’t involve a team of lawyers and a lot of paperwork. 

“We’re going for a walk, Mr. Markham. You’ve been making a lot of people very unhappy.”

The soft quiet voice seemed to terrify Markham more than if Elliot had bellowed it. He let himself be led to the elevator. Elliot decided this was all just a little too easy.

“He’s got iron on him,” Parker whispered.

“He can’t hear you, you’re inside my head,” Eliot reminded her. “I can smell it anyway.” He stopped the elevator between floors, opened the doors and yanked the small steel letter opener out of Markham’s inner pocket. It burned his fingers and made him feel completely sensory deprived. He chucked it onto the floor below them and restarted the elevator. Markham blinked at the abruptness of it all.

“How on earth?”

Elliot just grinned and let most of his human disguise melt away. He wasn’t sure if it was the pointed ears or the pointed teeth that distressed Markham more. But the instant of horror and fear was all he got. Markham composed himself quickly and sneered.

“Of course. How did you make it this far?”

“Trade secrets.” Eliot took him into the elevator and pressed for the roof.

“You’ll regret this, you know. I have powerful friends and relatives. They can make the next few millennia really unpleasant for you.”

“They can try.” Eliot shoved him out on the roof. He had no idea what Sophie had procured, but somehow an open, swan-drawn chariot wasn’t unexpected. He pushed Markham in, without letting go.

“Not only that, I can prosecute you for kidnapping.”

“Good luck.” Sophie raised eyebrows back. “How many police officers will believe you were abducted in a swan coach from the roof of your own building, by a lot of elves?”

Nate and Sterling appeared, with Carrie and Parker. Carrie gaped a little but climbed right in. Sterling laid Parker on the seat with more care than anyone would have given him credit for. He settled himself on the seat beside her.

“Where’s Hardison?” Nate asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Parker sat up. “Hang on.” She laid back down and went borrowing.

***

“Hey girl, you here to help me out of the building?” Hardison never minded when she rode his mind. Eliot worked to throw her out as soon as he could. His mind was all edges and hard places. Hardison’s was comfy and welcoming. Right now, he was tucked into an alcove near the eighth floor elevators being dim. Heavy footsteps drew closer. 

“Dammit, that’s the third time we passed the elevators. Where is he? We had better split up,” one of the three security guards grumbled. They never saw Hardison as they split and went down three different corridors. Hardison slipped into the elevator.

“Been a while since I pixie-led anyone. And those clowns didn’t eat any of the cake. Everyone in the lobby is snoring away as visions of fairyland dance in their heads.”

“Your alarms were fun,” Parker said softly in his head and he preened under the praise. “We’re all on the roof waiting for you.”

Hardison stepped onto the roof and Parker sat up again. She lay back down, but this time on her stomach, with her feet in the air.

“Better get going. Once I’m out, all those alarms are going to show up as fake and people will start waking up.” He climbed in beside Parker and Sophie spoke softly to the swans.

The shell-shaped conveyance lifted off the roof. Markham clutched his seat and Nate watched. He could tell Eliot wanted to clutch his own but he never let go of Markham.

Nate spoke gently to Carrie Whitman. “Your father will be pleased to see you.” She still looked stunned, almost groggy as if awakening from a dream. The transport didn’t help. She ran one hand over the scalloped edge of the chariot and looked at Nate.

“Is it a dream or have I slipped into a fairy tale?”

“Both. Rest some. We’ll get you home.” Ordinarily, Nate wasn’t much for humans but she made him feel protective.

She awakened in an ordinary car as iot pulled up to the coffee shop down the block from her parents house. Nate gave her a smile. “Here we are. Your folks are waiting in the shop. Go home. Be safe.”

“Thank you. What do we owe you?”

“Nothing.” The admission came hard. “We have our own sources of reward for this job. Go on. Your parents have missed you. It’s your happy ending.”

Carrie got out of the car and Nate watched her hesitate before she opened the door. Her parents practically dashed for the door when they saw her. He smiled and made the car vanish as it turned the corner. He had things to take care of back home.

***

Sophie was looking thoroughly disgruntled as she listened to the other three argue, with unhelpful asides from Sterling. He’d followed them back to the fairy fort, and appeared to be planning to take up residence. Nate decided he would tend to that immediately after he finished with Markham.

“I still say we should just eat him. Tasty, and he can’t do any more harm at all that way.” Parker was upside down again as she debated the merits of her plan with Eliot and Hardison.

Hardison looked a little pale at the idea. Nate remembered he only liked fruit flavors and avoided meat. “Maybe we could just lose him in the woods. Or I have a few ideas I’ve been wondering if they would work on humans.”

“Lose him in the woods and let him run.” Eliot had one of the Hounds at his side and was scratching its red ears and stroking its white head. “I bet he knows enough to give us a good hunt.”

“Tell the dogs to save me something tasty.” Parker vanished up into the trees.

“I rather favor losing him, without hunting him.” Sophie added loudly, “Or eating him, Parker!” She looked at the bound Markham, frozen in a paralysis spell. “What do you think, Aaron? We could simply lose you in the forest. With luck you would find your way home before you died of exposure.” She offered a predatory smile. “Or you could stay and enjoy our...hospitality.”

Eliot, Hardison and Sterling all shuddered at the way she said it. They knew well enough what she meant. The legends were far too gentle, claiming ensorcelled mortals lived forever under the Hill, rapt in the adoration of their faerie lover.

The truth was far less pleasant. Mortals did not last long when they tasted fae pleasures, especially not those of the Leanan Sidhe. Something about the way a human nervous system was wired rendered them first addicted and then incapacitated. It killed them within half a year. That seemed harsh, even for Markham. He would end a hollow-eyed, hollowed-out shell of a man who eventually crumbled into nothingness. 

Markham must have seen something about Sophie’s aspect because that suggestion elicited frantic eye blinking and muffled noises, despite the paralysis spell. Nate watched for an instant, letting Markham panic.

“Humans like to talk about having it all,” he said, circling Markham thoughtfully. “You seem the sort of man who tried. Cornering the blood market, working on cornering the real estate in the area. Deals with some of our cousins to give you more power than a human should have. I think you should have it all. All our team can bring to you.”

Markham’s eyes were wide as golf balls and even Sophie looked a little horrified. “We’re going to have some fun. My team, that is, not necessarily you. I think you can have it all. Hardison, your experiments must leave him in near perfect condition when you pass him to Sophie. Sophie, you get a week, mortal time, not ours. Eliot, when she’s done, you can hunt him as long as he will run. Then, it’s my turn.”

Markham fought the spell, struggling as Hardison levitated him away. That would be an interesting thing to watch, and Nate followed, invisibly.

It was the third day in the forest. Markham was beginning to tire and lose Hardison’s interest. Hardison had taken care to make sure his subject ate and had safe sleep. But Markham was looking haggard and exhausted anyway. 

Hardison had led him a merry chase, playing will-o-wisp for a while. Then when Markham tried getting out, he had pixie-led the man in ever tightening circles until Markham yelled with rage. For all his knowledge, he had missed the most elementary trick of all. Had he simply taken off his jacket and reversed it, he would have seen through things immediately and known where he was.

The consideration Hardison had shown in making sure the food was actually edible, nuts and fruits instead of roots and grubs, and that the sleeping spaces were safe from predators impressed Nate. As did the assortment of new tricks. Will-o-wisp was a classic, but Hardison had added an audio component and made the lights look like flashlights. Markham had followed them for hours, thinking they were a search party.

Markham straggled on a little bit, walking downhill to find water, but finally he stumbled over a tree root and didn’t get up. Nate heard soft sobbing from the man. Amazing, three days wandering in a two acre wood, had rendered a CEO into a lost child. 

“Sophie, you’re up,” he whispered softly, knowing she would hear.

A warm blanket, white and gossamer, drifted down over Markham, and he looked up as he clutched it around him. Sophie, taking a cue from all the fantasy movies, glided toward him, shimmering, and dressed in white.

“Are you ready to go home?” she asked.

“Yes!” Markham clutched the blanket closer.

“Are you sure?” she asked, extending her hand.

He took it. “Please.”

In a wink, they were out of the woods, and in a sunlit courtyard.

“This isn’t my home,” Markham said, looking around himself, at the flagstones, comfortable outdoor furniture, cheerful fountain and plate of food that sat on a nearby table. He started for it but stopped.

“It is mine,” Sophie admitted. “The food is human, brought from the outer world. This is not meant to trap you, Aaron. You need to recover.”

He fell on the steak and potato as if starving. “I’ve only had fruit and nuts for a few days,” he said around a mouthful. “Protein.” His sigh was almost orgasmic.

Nate quit watching. He knew exactly how this went. Sophie would feed him and care for him. Then she would addict him and spurn him, Markham would spend the rest of his life pining and craving a form of love he would never have again. It was a unique form of lifelong pain and one Nate disliked inflicting. But at this point, he was willing to see Markham eaten by the Cwn Annwn when they caught up with him.

Three days later, Sophie brought the dazed human to the main office. “I’m done.” 

“That was fast,” Nate said. “You could have had a week.”

She shrugged. “Bored.” She patted his cheeks, straightened his clothing and brought him around enough to understand her. “Good-bye, Aaron. You won’t see me again.”

He made an indistinct noise of protest as he reached for her, but she vanished. He sank into the chair, covered his eyes and made soft broken noises in his throat. Nate almost felt sorry for him. Parker prodded his upper arm, where gym muscles were beginning to shrink into flatter, hard-used muscles. 

“He’s getting too tough to eat. After the Hunt, he’ll be all stringy.”

Markham whimpered again at the mention of the Hunt, but didn’t take his hands away from his face. Nate circled the chair, staring at the man. He was close. Maybe it was time. 

From the hallway, came the sounds of dogs and a man singing. “The keeper would a-hunting go, and under his cloak he carried a bow...”

Eliot was in an excellent mood if he was singing. Nate hadn’t heard him sing in a couple hundred years. He had reports from Parker and Hardison that he did from time to time, but this sounded genuinely happy and excited to be about his favorite pastime.

As he came in, the pack of hunting hounds following him, Markham looked more alive, drawing his limbs in close so the dogs couldn’t get him. 

“Eliot, outside.” Nate nodded at the dogs and pointed at the door.

He made sure the dogs had gotten a good long sniff of Markham before he complied, herding the great white beasts out of the room. Even Nate breathed more easily when they left. The pack of the Otherworld might obey Eliot, but only as long as it suited them. Even he could not truly control them. And now, they had Markham’s scent. Parker had vanished, probably going along with Eliot.

Nate listened. She had. She was singing the response part of the chorus to the song. Baobhan Sidhe were useful but never reliable. He looked over their target. Markham had curled into a tight ball in his chair and sat shaking his head. “Please,” was the only word he seemed able to manage.

Nate found himself unwontedly sympathetic toward the human. They had put him through a very grueling week or so. Who knew how much time had elapsed in the mortal world while Hardison tested new tricks and Sophie tried tricks of her own. But he couldn’t have too much sympathy, not for this man who had nearly killed dozens of his people.

“Aaron Markham,” he began, “CEO, real estate, medical supplies, agriculture. Diversification. They always say it’s a good idea. The problem is, you aren’t content to grow well and let be other things that live and grow well on their own. You decided you needed to corner the market. That new synthetic blood your lab has been working on could be a real lifesaver. But you aren’t doing it for the philanthropic aspects. You want profit, lots of it. And if that means you have to remove one of the rarer blood types from the local gene pool, you’re not against it.”

Nate sat down. “Now if you had done this in classical human ways, murder, bombs, that sort of thing, we wouldn’t care. But you brought changelings in. Your great-great grandmother is still a force to be reckoned with and she does adore you, when she remembers your brief, mostly mortal existence. A human wronged by you and by the changeling sought our aid. So you have put me into a very awkward position.”

He sat down behind the desk. Markham was starting to collect himself. Before he could open his mouth, Nate continued. “But that plan to draw Tir-na-NÓg over, conquer the fae with iron and make us your slaves to increase your own power? That should put you on everyone’s bad side, including your grandmother and her queen.”

“What will you do? Are you going to let those beasts chase and eat me?” Markham shuddered. “Or that girl?” He looked around. “And where is she? My lady.”

“You won’t see Sophie again. Once a Leanan Sidhe leaves a mortal, she has gone for good and all.” Nate pretended to think. “I could let Eliot hunt you and feed you to Parker when he catches you. And he will catch you. And she will eat you, most likely while shifted into a raven. Or, I could simply haul you back to Tir-na-NÓg and let you explain everything. To the queen, to grandma, and to all the gentry. Somehow I see that going even worse for you than the wild hunt.”

He let Markham fidget for a full minute.

“Here are your options: you can run through the forest, cold, hungry, lost, afraid, hearing the baying of the hounds and the singing of the hunters, as the tree limbs smack your face, and the rocks trip you and the shadows look monstrous in the fading light. The sounds will draw near and then you’ll feel hot breath and smell it too, just before you go down under teeth and bow and spear.” He shook his head. “Scary, messy and painful. A Baobhan Sidhe doesn’t like dead food, either.”

“What else is there?” Markham asked. “I want to go back to Sophie.”

“Which will never happen. That is one of your unique torments. Second option, I take you to Tir-na-NÓg. You have a talk with the Queen and all the folk. Talk fast and you might come out of it in the same shape you entered. Blow it and being eaten alive by dogs and a giant bird will be the least of your worries.”

“What’s three?” Markham sounded very small.

“I eat your brain. You return to the mortal world tabula rasa. We will make sure you have a nice clean institution until you figure out who you are again. And perhaps you’ll do a better job this time around. A kinder, more compassionate job that doesn’t involve kidnapping people for their blood and property, or trying to make slaves of a people more ancient than you.”

“Dead, dead or insane? How is that a choice?” In his anger, Markham was almost himself again.

“One of them leaves you alive.”

“Alive, broke, amnesiac. What kind of life is that?”

“I can call Eliot...”

Markham sank back into the chair. “No, no. Just… give me a minute.”

He thought for several minutes, leaving Nate to sit in unnerving silence. Nate had a pretty good idea which choice he would make.

“At least I’ll be alive,” he muttered. He finally looked up. 

Nathan Ford looked the mark straight in the eyes. He was very careful not to do that unless he needed to and he needed to now. 

Markham froze, went rigid and then slumped in his chair. His eyes slipped shut and he breathed slowly and evenly. Nate closed his own eyes and found his way back to his chair.

So much to digest. Markham’s brain wasn’t that complex, not like his underling’s had been. He was a greedy man, with a near insatiable lust for power and money. The idea about enslaving the fae hadn’t even been his originally. But he had a gift for seeing a plan and pursuing it. Or he did have. Now Nate had it, as well as all his memories and ideas. Tir-na-NÓg was safe. The humans were safe. And he had more ideas than he could sort all at once. Knowledge was power and this job had left Nate a lot more powerful.

He summoned the others, and they took the unconscious human to a place where he could be found and cared for.

Overhead, flying cars streaked through the skies between the solar powered arcologies that protected the remnant of humanity from the results of the global catastrophes of the last century.

Power and Payback. It had been a good day.


End file.
